


together we make magenta (horrordust week)

by zephyred



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Fluff, HorrorDustWeek2021, Horrordust Week, Horrordustweek, M/M, Multi, Phantom is a dick, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, au sanses - Freeform, clearly I don't know what I'm doing, hinted krossmare, horror x dust - Freeform, horrordust, idiot gay boys in love, kross - Freeform, look sometimes you just have to bless traumatized skeletons with fluff, nightmare's baddie daycare, undertale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 00:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30030477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyred/pseuds/zephyred
Summary: collection of prompt-inspired horrordust oneshots for horrordust week 2021.lots of idiot gay boys trying to figure things out together,,, horrordust centric.
Relationships: Horror Sans/Dust Sans, Horror/Dust, Killer Sans/Cross Sans, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	1. heart-shaped lilac (day 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 1 - 'soul/s' prompt
> 
> horror likes to make sure that dust knows every part of him is beautiful in his eyes. pure fluff.

Dust's bedroom tended to reside in a permanent state of shadow no matter how many lights were flicked on in within its confines. The air held a lingering chill as well, a problem that was never quite fixed despite Nightmare's numerous attempts to dispel the unwanted cold from Dust's quarters. It was the coldest bedroom out of the bunch- _not that any of the others were particularly warmer in any regard_ -which was why, most nights, Horror simply held Dust close and shared his bed with the smaller. The larger's body heat was higher than most normal monsters, and any shivers that wracked Dust's body were quickly dispelled within minutes of close contact. It was nice to know that he helped the hooded skeleton on nights where the shivers weren't just from the outer cold of his rooms but from the frigid confines of his head, too, crimson pulling mauve beneath thick covers and chasing the whispered fragments away.

Despite the colder temperature of the atmosphere, Horror had insisted that they use Dust's room for their activities this particular day instead of his own warmer one further down the hall. "You sure you don't wanna go to your room?" The question prompted a firm headshake of denial, and Dust let out a soft sigh. "Ight, if you say so." 

Both skeletons were sprawled out on the covering of Dust's bed, the sheets wrinkled and lopsided and more than a little untucked. The hooded skeleton was never good when it came to keeping his quarters clean, numerous stacks of clothing thrown haphazardly on the floor and blankets thrown to scatter their soft fabric out over any surface they came into contact with. One of the bedside lamps mounted on the wall didn't even work. The lightbulb had run dry weeks ago, but Dust had never bothered to replace it; why should he, when all he ever did was dart in to grab clothing before moving straight to Horror's room?

"So-" Dust looked up at Horror from his position in the larger's lap, "-how do you want to do this?" The question was soft and filled with a hint of curiosity, Horror shifting a bit to untangle his arms from around the smaller's waist where they had settled. "Up... to you." The careful response was enough to nudge Dust into action, exhaling through his teeth as he forced himself into a sitting position. "Sittin' up, then." Horror followed suit as his lover repositioned himself up against the old oak headboard that was darkened with age, the larger moving to sit facing across from him. 

"Okay." Dust gave a shaky breath, multicolored eyelights finding Horror's crimson one with trust. "Are you... comfortable?" Horror's deep voice rumbled with concern that was quickly motioned away by a wave of his partner's hand. "Yeah, yeah- I'm fine. 'S just..." his voice tapered off with a clear of his throat. "I ain't never really done this before, so." The voiced nerves made Horror nod in slow agreement, clawed fingers looping and unlooping amongst each other in visible tension; "Me neither." 

The subject of souls had been a rather hot topic around the mansion lately. The buzz had started with Killer and Cross, Nightmare catching word that the two of them had been helping one another with the small bumps and hassles of owning a soul that did not function correctly or at full capacity. The revelation had sparked a group-wide meeting in which Cross had sheepishly explained how Killer, _the cocky bastard of all people_ , had been easing the irritation that XChara had been causing along the ragged edge of their shared heart.

The knowledge had caused great intrigue on Nightmare's part for a multitude of reasons.

One thing had lead to the next, and suddenly the Boss was researching unceasingly about the sensitive organ, asking questions and prompting consensual demonstrations to various members of the house. Each and every one of them held a soul that varied greatly from the other; Cross' was a fusion for starters, and Killer's little red target was so lacking that not even he considered it a true functioning system anymore. 

It hadn't taken long for Nightmare to work his way around to Horror's. It had been just after breakfast not even a week ago, a brief moment in time where everyone save for Dust, his partner, and Nightmare had already slipped out of the dining room to go about their respective routines. The guardian had asked if Horror was comfortable enough to show him his soul for a brief once-over, nothing more and nothing less. The cannibal had simply shrugged and bared the small organ to the Boss upon request, the only sign of discomfort the brief flicker of shame present in his one working eyesocket.

The delicate organ was... _small_ , to put it nicely.

Horror's soul had hovered weakly in his hand as he extended it in offer towards the king. The crimson heart was dull and cracked with muted edges and a fragile shell, and it flickered irregularly in the light filtering down from the ornate fixtures up above on the ceiling. Most noticeably, standing out against everything else, had been the sheer size of the inverted heart. It was much smaller than a typical monster soul, tiny and feeble and pounding off-kilter in a random beat that was so slow it was borderline concerning.

It had been the prettiest thing Dust had ever seen.

The hooded skeleton made sure Horror _knew_ it, too. He wanted to see all traces of that flickering shame and doubt disappear completely from his lover's eye. The moment they left the dining room with Horror's small soul in tow, Dust had been on the larger fast enough to make the cannibal's skull spin with dizzying denial. "It's such a pretty shade of red." He'd murmured, "Perfect. Perfect, jus' like you." The shower of compliments had ended with Dust showing Horror just how _much_ he adored the other's soul, gloved hands and mauve body drowning the larger in praise until he could no longer breathe without inhaling the essence of his partner and the sheer wave of love felt towards every aspect of him. _Honestly, who could say that they weren't the same thing?_

Several days had passed since then, hours trickling away with small little kisses and cuddles behind closed doors as it always had been. When Horror had approached Dust with a slight flush upon his cheeks and a stutter in his voice earlier that morning, the smaller wasn't entirely sure what to expect when the larger had finally opened up his mouth to speak. "I... wanna hold it. Your soul." The request had been so softspoken that Dust had almost missed it entirely, and he'd nearly lost his grip on the scalding cup of coffee he'd clutched between his hands. "You wanna do _what_?" Asymmetrical eyelights stared disbelieving at Horror as the larger laced and unlaced his hands together before hooking a pair of clawed fingers through his broken eyesocket in embarrassment. "Your soul."

Like everything that came down to Horror, Dust had obliged instantaneously.

All of those small events had led to this particular moment; the two of them alone in a cold little room. The remaining inner scientist of Dust found it fascinating how every little action sparked something greater in the aspect of time, but the hooded skeleton merely shook the train of thought away and focused on the task at hand. "I'll be gentle." Horror murmured, his eyelight betraying the vast sense of nervousness that was ebbing and flowing as Dust shrugged off the arms of his tattered jacket. "Nah, I know." He shot the other a lopsided grin, "I trust ya' more than I trust myself, H. 'S okay." 

His hooded words were solid truth if the gentle laying of a gloved hand upon his ribcage was any indication. Dust trusted Horror more than anyone and anything in the entire multiverse, trusted him to keep him safe and keep him stable. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He muttered, a faint glowing outline already visible through the white fabric of his t-shirt. "It ain't pretty." Horror bit back a comment about how his soul wasn't exactly prime merchandise either, simply swallowing down the words and placing all of his available focus solely on his partner.

Waving his hand a bit to coax out the illusive organ, Horror watched with bated breath as Dust's soul finally bared itself to the world. The heart hovered tentatively above a gloved hand, pulsing in time with Dust's shaky exhale. It was a dull lavender color that grew more faded towards the center, the surface riddled with countless scars and cracks from breaking and healing after every LV rush and level gained. There was a tinge of yellow mixed in the longer Horror looked, eyelight wide with appreciation that was impossible to fake.

"Here." Dust extended his hand towards his larger lover, the odd colored soul floating after the offered appendage. "Take it." There was indescribable amount of trust present in just those two words, Horror's own soul fluttering weakly in response. Horror wasted no time cupping clawed hands gently around the organ to cautiously corral it towards it towards his own torso. He moved painfully slow to ensure that nothing happened to it, eventually sitting back entirely once organ was secure within his hold.

"'S... beautiful." A crimson-laced voice rumbled in appreciation, "One of a kind." The words drew a shudder from Dust as clawed fingertips traced along several of the deeper markings on the battered surface, Horror bringing the soul upwards to gently nuzzle his lover's essence against his cheek. "I love you." He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the small heart with a purr. 

"I l-love you t-too, _fuck_ -" The gentle kiss against his soul, his very _being_ , felt true enough to bring the faintest shimmer of tears to Dust's eyes. "You should... take this back." Horror held the pulsing soul back up to the smaller's chest, and the organ sank back into his ribcage with a happy flutter after a few moments of hanging idly in the air. Both of them had agreed to take things slow and in small steps, and Horror felt more than happy to merely cradle the dainty essence against him for a few minutes.

"You okay?" The question was routine, and the larger purred happily as Dust fell into his lap with a shaky inhale. "Yeah. I jus' didn't expect it to feel like that." The larger offered a silent nod to convey his understanding, wrapping his arms around Dust and pulling him close into his lap. "I meant it when I said that it was beautiful." The reminder of flattery made the smaller snort, a gloved hand lightly knocking against Horror's upper arm in mock irritation. "Yeah, yeah; I still think yours is prettier though." His ever-classic lopsided grin make Horror's cheeks flush a faint crimson, muttering beneath his breath that Dust needed to stop being so attractive for just one singular minute.

As the two of them leaned into one another, the room didn't seem so cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god I love them. yes, I hc them differently than most people. shush.


	2. grains of salt, grains of dust (day 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 2 - 'universe/s' prompt
> 
> horror, cross, and killer get sent to an unoccupied AU to blow off steam. it doesn't work. (TW: mentions of suicide!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER HAS A TRIGGER WARNING!! please be advised that there are mentions of suicide in this, but no major character death or injury.
> 
> 'alternate/duplicate' - a duplicate of an already existing AU. ie a second killertale, or another copy of horrortale.  
> 'deadverse' - a dead AU in which most if not all residents are dead. an empty world.
> 
> honestly just me exploring some hcs of mine more than actual horrordust, sorry

There was an unspoken rule among Nightmare and his crew.

Under no circumstances were they to ever visit an AU duplicate of one of their own. Not on missions, not for fun, and not if they could help it under any possible position. It was far too risky and opened up countless doorways to insanity and paranoia; to see an AU of oneself was, for lack of better terms, a complete and utter mindfuck.

Nightmare often enlisted the help of Error to avoid the problem before it ever even began, an extra rung in the cautionary ladder. The king would have the glitch scan potential alternates before the guardian made his choice, made Error pick through every line and sliver of code to ensure that he would _never_ lead his crew into an AU of Killertale or a crazed duplicate of Horror's universe. It was a tedious process that many would rather skip, but it was important. It could not be ignored.

The potential consequences far outweighed the slim margin of benefits.

"In and out." The entirety of the gang was lined up in the living room standing shoulder to shoulder. The meeting was a brief one, a simple explanation of their newest mission and the strict orders to get in, blow off some steam, and return no worse for wear. Nightmare never brought in Error for these kinds of missions to run a quick diagnostic test on the universe they were traveling to. 'Hobby' missions had no true objective and were often based in 'dead universes' that held almost no residents if any at all. The AUs were places with weak code already riddled with collateral damage from whatever tragically pathetic plot had once taken place there; Error had told the guardian that the odds of ever finding a duplicate deadverse identical to that of any gang member was highly improbable if not impossible altogether, and that there wasn't any reason to contact him for such a trivial excursion.

"I'm gonna kick your ass Crossy, just you wait and see." Killer 's obnoxious grin stretched wider as Cross growled, shoving the smaller roughly with his elbow to knock the cackling maniac into Horror's side. "Shut your mouth, Kills. The only one going down is gonna be _yo_ -" The syllables trailed off under the heat of Nightmare's unamused stare, and the guard quickly fell silent and rigid in place. "As I was saying, this mission is like any other in its casual nature. I do not care what you do nor how you do it as long as everybody refrains from getting injured, and that you return to the designated portal area at your assigned time. I do not wish to wait for any stragglers." 

The statement was pointedly aimed at Killer, who offered a careless shrug at the unspoken reminder. "Oi, it was _once_ , Boss. Jus' gotta little curious 's all." Dust snorted in blatant disbelief from his seat in the corner, hooded grin lighting up at the pathetic excuse. "Yer just a dumbass, more like." The crimson-bearing skeleton was settled into an armchair tucked away in the corner of the room, shielded from the harshest point of light. His LV had been acting up lately, rough and burning and unpleasant in every meaning of the word. He'd boosted his LV noticeably after the last smattering of missions, and the unsettled rush of EXP was the cause for his absence in today's outing. 

Horror had wanted to stay behind as well after he'd been notified that Dust was sitting this one out.

The larger liked to stay close to Dust whenever his boyfriend had unsettled LV or EXP. Both affected Dust more than anybody else in the gang- _most likely due to the fact that LV was so high to begin with_ -and Horror didn't like leaving if he could help it until things had settled down. Call him paranoid or overcautious, but that was just the way he was. "H, I'll be fine." Dust had said, drawing the larger down to press a kiss against his cheek, "Jus' go 'n blow off some steam. Screw around and make sure Kills doesn't drive Cross up the wall while you're at it." The reassurance had been accepted reluctantly, but in the end Horror had decided to leave with the others. The Boss would still be there with Dust if something were to happen, and the guardian was arguably more capable of dealing with an LV issue than Horror was himself.

"Have fun." Nightmare had barely opened the portal to its entirety before Killer was already barreling through, Cross hot on his heels and spitting fire. "Horror-" the largest turned to respectfully look at the darker being, "-keep an eye on them." He nodded, shooting one last glance at Dust before stepping through after the others.

There was something that felt immediately out of place the second Horror stepped out into the untouched snow. There was always an eerie feeling within dead AUs, of course, but the unpleasant nature was magnified more than usual. Cross and Killer had seemed to recognize it as well, both coming to a halt and standing quiet in the silence. "Huh." Killer's voice echoed, "This doesn't feel right."

There was an incoherent feeling of _wrong_ that hung still in the air.

They'd stepped out into an abandoned version of Snowdin, lights turned off with burnt bulbs and windows cracked from frigid cold and lack of care. There wasn't a single soul nor trace of a living person in sight, and it didn't seem like there had been for quite some time. "It's probably just a remnant of a genocide run." Cross threw the suggestion in, dragging the toe of his boot through the gathered snow. "You can say that again-" Killer muttered, dropping down to crouch low to the ground and dip his hands into icy material.

"Half this shit is dust."

A large portion of snow that fell through Killer's fingers was tinted gray and powdery in nature. It was unmistakably dust, the ashes of a fallen monster that had lost _some_ sort of battle. "Kid really did a number, huh?" Horror shook his head, axe buried in the messy swirls of white and gray. "Don't.... think a kid did this." He pretended not to see the stiffening of Cross' shoulders, "You can still feel the barrier. 'S why... why it feels wrong."

The buzzing aura of the barrier was still covering the entirety of the underground. The magic confine always felt heavy and strong with unbreakable restraint- it was why only human souls, the strongest of the bunch, could ever hope to break it. If it had truly been a kid that placed dust against snow, the barrier wouldn't have still been standing. The human child typically broke it and simply left in the majority of genocide AUs or at least RESET and did the whole thing over again. The fact that the barrier was still going strong implied that whatever had done this was still _here_.

While it wasn't uncommon, it was still hard to ignore.

"Dunno. It doesn't look like anybody's been here in a long while." Cross shrugged, "It's a deadverse for a reason." It seemed to be a good enough explanation for Killer, who wasted absolutely no time in bending down to scoop up a handful of snow and throw it directly into the unsuspecting face of Cross. "You little _rat_ -" the monochrome skeleton hissed, wiping away the splattered substance with an irritated swipe of his hand, "I'm gonna make you pay for that." 

"Oh?" Killer grinned, unreadable eyesockets almost sparkling with mirth in the snowy light, "I'd like to see you try, Criss-Cross." The odd aura was immediately forgotten as the two of them descended into a snowball fight. Horror pointedly moved out of the way to show that he held limited interest in becoming involved, but it still didn't stop the occasional sphere from being hurled at his frame in the excited fray. He stood off to the side with a ghost of a smile and one hand laid on the handle of his axe, watching Killer and Cross move into the distance and wrestle one another on the icy Snowdin ground.

There was nothing truly wrong or out of place, but Horror still felt like something was missing. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it, couldn't pick out the one detail that was making his nonexistent skin crawl with a million and one red flags. _There's somethin' real, real, wrong here._ The fact that Killer and Cross had felt the same ghostly chill served to prove that it wasn't just the larger's imagination- there was something in this AU that felt almost _familiar,_ a nagging in the back of his broken skull that was whispering the answer just out of reach and understanding.

Like fate itself spoke, clarity struck fast and dark.

"Yo, H!" Killer's voice snapped him straight from his thoughts, crimson moving over to where Killer and Cross were huddled together. "You uh, ain't been over here, right?" The duo was standing a good handful of yards away, Cross' hand twitching before summoning a knife that spurred Horror on to raise his own weapon in preparation. "No." He called back, lumbering over to where the two of them were standing. "Why?" 

"There's a set of footprints here." Cross' face had fallen into a grimace. "It ain't any of ours by the looks of it." A pair of footprints lay embedded in the hardened snow around the back of a snowbank, gleaming faintly with ice and standing stark against its softer surroundings. "So? It doesn't look new. I'm tellin' ya, there ain't nobody left alive down here." There was a part of Horror that knew Killer was right- _the shorter would know considering how things went awry in his own AU_ -but he'd already begun wandering after the half-covered trail. "Come on, Kills. Gotta be sure." Abyssal-black eyes widened briefly as the former guard latched onto the smallest's hoodie, tugging Killer along as the two of them made up for lost time and fell in line with Horror. The three of them remained in silence as they made their way along the pathway of another, and Horror briefly wondered if this was how Nightmare intended their 'destress' mission to go. "'M gettin' a bad feelin' about this." Killer muttered, "This whole AU is givin' off bad vibes." 

If 'bad' could turn to 'worse', it most certainly did.

The footsteps went right up to the icy porch of a familiar house with windows that weren't quite straight and decorated in giftmas lights that tended to stay up all year round. "Holy shit-" Cross' voice was the representation of disbelief itself, "-you don't actually think..." The words trailed off. "That these tracks might actually be from a Sans? Yeah, buddy, kinda looks that way don't it?"

There were plenty of AUs that Nightmare's gang had visited where there was only a sole survivor of a genocide run. It was almost always a human child, but occasionally it was a smaller monster that had somehow escaped the slaughter brought upon its kind. A _Sans_ making it past the 'end' wasn't entirely improbable either, though far more rare and much more difficult to manage. Sliding a sideways glance to look down at Cross, the guard returned Horror's gaze with a subtle nod. 

"Ight, in we go."

It wasn't necessary to enter the house and check around, but all them knew that they wouldn't be able to breathe with the continued thought that someone _could_ be watching them. Could be hiding just behind a building corner, could be waiting to lash out or strike. The iced-over footprints were not new ones, but they were also the only sign of life they'd seen throughout the Snowdin so far; therefore, while not exactly fresh, the imprints had been relatively recent compared to everything else. "Ready?" Cross motioned, and Killer slipped a twin set of knives down from within the sleeves of his jacket. The blades fell into ready and waiting palms, and Horror hefted his axe as a clawed hand rested gently on the door handle. "Yeah." 

The door swung open the second confirmation was given.

Horror immediately wished he'd left the door slammed closed as the outside light filtered in to illuminate the space. The sound of a heavy axe slamming into the ground rang rampant throughout the house, his grip on the handle faltering as Cross inhaled sharply to his left. "I-" not even Killer could keep the sickening sound of speechlessness from his voice, promptly pivoting on his heel to face away with a hand pressed against his mouth.

The entrance way was littered with dust. The shimmering powder coated almost every surface; it stuck to the walls, clung to the floor, rested in the holds nestled against fabric and glimmered lazily in the air. The dust itself wasn't special in the slightest, no. What drew everyone's attention was the crimson scarf lying amidst it all, a strikingly familiar jacket that was left behind with two dark gloves and a scribbled piece of paper that was coated in a handwriting they'd all seen a million times within the walls of the mansion.

It hit Horror like a spear to the skull.

"Dust?" Cross' voice was blank, eyelights mere pinpricks as Killer remained facing the doorframe. There was no mistaking the scarf and tattered jacket, _no mistaking_ the penmanship looped sloppily on a folded piece of paper. The scene laid out in front of them was no doubt the aftermath of a suicide, a self-imposed death of an alternate _Dust_. 

Cross barely made it outside before he retched dryly against the side of the building, Killer stiffly walking back into the snow with a silence that made his soul ache. Horror was stuck standing in the puddle of ashen gray, crimson eyelight shaking so violently that he could hardly read the scratchy words that the Dust of this timeline had left behind, _shoving everything into place like some sort of twisted puzzle coming to completion._

"It's a duplicate." Killer finally spoke, voice carrying inwards from outside. "'S why- 's why we felt so odd when we got here. 'S gotta little bit of Dust's code in the mix." He had an arm slung around Cross' shoulders, pulling the guard close as dark eyes looked in at Horror. "It's um... it's not Dust. _Our_ Dust." The words should have been comforting, but they didn't hold a candle to seeing... this. Of seeing a crimson scarf and hoodie that was identical to the one their Dust wore, of seeing a note so painstakingly written in the same handwriting that was always present on sticky notes that their Dust occasionally slipped beneath their doors. Horror had been prepared for many things upon walking through that doorway, but this had not been one of them. None of them had ever walked into a duplicate universe before, and just the fact of knowing that the pile of dust splayed out in front of him wasn't _Horror's_ version of his lover didn't soothe the nauseating wave of panic that had tripped alive in his soul.

"Call the Boss." None of them needed to be reminded twice, Killer bumping his signal none too kindly and sending a look of something that may have been pity in the direction of Horror. "H. Mate, we're gonna leave- just uh, just come out from outta there, yeah? It's not... it's not worth lookin' at any longer." Nobody moved for a few heavy minutes, and Killer separated from Cross in case he had to manually drag Horror out of that wretched house. 

"Okay." The word was abnormally hushed, but neither Killer nor Cross spoke anything of it. Horror stooped down to pick up his axe, gaze wavering before he caved and picked up the tattered note as well. He shoved the piece of paper into his pocket before tearing his eye away from the morbid picture and forcing himself back out into the cold. _It hadn't seemed right to let the note just sit there. To let it rot away like everything else._

Fast and efficient as Nightmare always was, a portal soon opened up near the trio. Killer wasted no time in ushering the others through before stepping back into the mansion a little too quickly himself, casting one last unreadable glance at the frigid house left half-buried in the snow before the portal snapped shut with audible snap.

"You're back far earlier than I initially expec-" Nightmare didn't finish the sentence as the atmosphere drifted into a tense silence. "What happened?" Horror wasn't listening, crimson eyelight searching the room frantically for the smaller form of his partner. "Where is Dust?" The cannibal ignored the guardian's question entirely. "Where is- Dust is in the living room, Horror, as he always is when he is unable to go on-" 

Horror was out the door before Nightmare had the chance to finish speaking.

"What the hell happened?" The king repeated his question dangerously firm, and Killer shifted uncomfortably in place. "We uh... we ran into a duplicate." Cross kept his gaze trained at the ground. "The AU was an alternate of Dust's. It wasn't..." Killer's normally silver tongue was failing him, and the near soft-expression on Nightmare's face was enough to show that the guardian did not fault him. "It wasn't pretty. The Dust there, well, dusted himself. We didn't know until..." Another stiff pivot onto his other ratty sneaker, "Until we saw the aftermath. 'S why H is a little- it's why _all_ of us are a little shaken. Sorry Boss." 

Nightmare merely shook his head and told them they had no reason to apologize.

Horror had let go of his axe somewhere along the way, though he didn't remember ever losing his grip. His mind was focused on more important things, more necessary things- he needed to find Dust. He needed to make sure that the smaller was safe, that he was _alive_ ; seeing that crimson scarf and note buried beneath ashen powder had screwed with Horror's heart more than he cared to admit. _Get it together. It wasn't your Dust. It wasn't him._ To Horror's dismay, the words did not stop the tears from brewing in the corners of his sockets as he turned around the corner and halted in his tracks.

Dust was sitting sprawled out on the sofa, gaze half-lidded and very much alive. His discolored eyelights flickered up at the sound of footsteps, a grin popping up on his face as Horror's towering frame came into view. "Babe! Didn't expect to see you back so soo-" His words were cut off by a sharp exhale, Horror flying across the room and crushing his smaller frame in a tight hold. "-n. Whoah, whoah, you okay? What happened?" The larger held Dust close to his chest, his thin ribcage shuddering dangerously as Horror curled up in the corner of the couch with Dust held so tightly that the desperation could not be mistaken.

Held so tightly like Horror was terrified he'd disappear if he let him go.

"H, breathe. 'M okay, 's okay." Dust fought against his lover's hold, eventually loosening it enough to slip his smaller arms around the other's waist as far as he could reach. "'M right here. I got ya', 's okay." The first sob finally freed itself from Horror's throat, and Dust leaned up to press a gentle kiss against the larger's cheek. "'M here. I ain't leavin' you. Not now, not ever. Jus' breathe." The sound of the smaller's voice drew a strangled noise from Horror, who just held Dust close and drank in the familiar weight of his body against his bigger one. He was _lucky_ , dreadfully so, to have the ability to do that. To keep Dust close, to keep him safe. "Promise?" His voice wavered dangerously, but Dust simply moved to cup his broken skull in his hands and wipe away some of the crimson tears that had already made their way down his cheeks. "Yeah." Dust whispered, soft mauve against red, 

"I promise."


	3. polaroid (day 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My.... my brother wants to see you. Wants to... know what you look like."
> 
> dust never dreamed that a simple polaroid picture would ever make him feel so whole.
> 
> day 3 - 'family' prompt

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Dust lifted the book he'd been reading in front of his face, hearing the disappointed whine of Horror as his hooded skull disappeared from view. "'M takin' yer picture." The larger mumbled, "But I can't do that with.... with you coverin' yer face like that." Dust refrained from mentioning that obscurity was exactly his intention, holding his tongue and peeking around the corner of the cover instead. "I can see that- but why? Y'aint never really been interested in doin' it before." 

It wasn't like pictures were a rarity within Nightmare's mansion. There were a handful of cameras scattered around the premises at all times, readily available for anyone's use whenever they wished; it just so happened that most of the gang stayed away from them with exceptions to important dates or holidays. Pictures were somewhat of a serious ordeal- they signified catching a moment in time permanently, preserving a person or place on a tangible item.

Pictures were a _promise_.

"My..." Horror's voice faltered after the first word, and the oddly placed uncertainty was enough for Dust to lower the book shielding his face from view. "Don't get like that, H." The smaller mumbled, dropping the book carelessly onto the floor. "I ain't mad at you or anythin'. I was jus' wonderin' is all; it ain't somethin' you do often, so I was curious as to why yer doin' it now." Horror's crimson gaze had averted down towards his lap, where a pair of clawed hands toyed nervously with the buttons of a polaroid camera.

"My.... my brother wants to see you. Wants to... know what you look like."

Horror was the only resident of the castle that still kept in contact with his AU. Killer, Cross, and Dust had no AU that was worth returning to- _if their AU was still around at all_ -and the Boss never spoke of his origins. Nightmare always took Horror to visit his brother on the first Monday of every month, and Dust often helped pack up some food that his lover could deliver to his brother, _'Spooks'_ as Horror often called him. While the act itself wasn't terribly odd, Horror never brought up his brother openly in front of the others for good reason.

"I told him that.... that you wouldn't be able to come in person." A crimson gaze finally rose to look at Dust from across the room. "You know I'd... never ask that of you." That was one of the many aspects that had made Dust fall head over heels for the larger cannibal, Horror's ability to recognize boundaries and respect them. Seeing any version of Papyrus often sent Dust's soul spiraling into a wobbly rhythm, and Horror had always been cautious when it came down to Spooks because of that.

There was just too much similarity between any Papyrus and Dust's brother, dead by his own hand.

"So I thought that maybe.... maybe a picture would be better. Since, y'know, he'd be able to see you and..." Horror paused briefly to collect his thoughts. "And you wouldn't have to worry about seein' him in return. I was gonna.... ask you after I took the picture. I wouldn't just.... bring it without askin' first."

It took Dust a moment to fully comprehend what his larger partner had said. "He wants to see me?" There was no mocking tone to the question, just genuine curiosity as Dust pushed himself to sit upright with his legs crossed beneath him. "Mhm." Confirmation came in the form of a quiet hum, "He... wants to know what..... what my boyfriend looks like." 

_Oh my fucking god._

That had not been the reasoning Dust was expecting, but it drew a rare burst of laughter from his lanky frame nonetheless. "Oh hell, H." He threw a lopsided grin towards the camera, "When you put it like that, how can I refuse?" There was something so dreadfully _innocent_ about the true nature of the request, and the brief pang in Dust's soul was well worth the tentative smile Horror displayed in response. "Really? Yer okay with it?" Uneven eyelights met a single crimson one, and Dust was almost surprised by the amount of sincerity that he carried in his voice. 

"Yeah, H- I'm fine with it."

The picture had almost slipped from Dust's mind entirely as the rest of the month passed away without incident. There had been a few weeks between the actual date the picture had been taken and the next Monday of the upcoming month, and there had been too many missions and miscellaneous outings for Dust to keep the idea in the forefront of his mind throughout them.

"Dust?" There was a gentle knock upon his bedroom door that startled the hooded skeleton from where he had been crouching on the floor, a gloved hand slipping the notebook back onto the shelf in favor of answering the soft-spoken inquiry. "Door's open, H." Dust hummed in response, brushing the palms of his gloved hands against the threadbare material of his already tattered jeans. "Ain't no need to knock. You can come in."

There was a creak as heavy oak was pushed open to reveal the larger frame of Horror in the doorway, clawed hands occupied by a small stained manila envelope. "Go okay?" Dust crossed the space as Horror shut the door behind him with a nod. "Yeah. Went well." Horror had been away at his AU for the entirety of the day to visit his brother, Nightmare of course keeping guard to watch out for any sign of Undyne. "'S good." Dust mumbled, not at all resisting when Horror moved to the bed and pulled his smaller frame down to hold him close.

"He... gave me something to give you." The envelope was passed from Horror's hands and into Dust's smaller ones, the larger readjusting now that he could pour total physical affection onto Dust's frame. "Give to _me_?" Dust ran a thumb over the worn paper material with uneven eyelights flickering upward to look at Horror's face. "Are ya' sure?" There was a soft nod given in return, and Dust exhaled once before working to open the envelope.

"I think it's..... a picture. So don't open it yet if.... if it's too much. Okay?" There was a genuine firmness to Horror's request, and Dust couldn't help but lean into the larger's embrace with the smallest quirk of a smile. His partner was always looking out for him and making sure that Dust never forced himself to do anything that could chance upsetting him. 

It never failed to make Dust's battered soul flutter within his ribcage.

"I think I'll be fine." The hooded skeleton murmured, "I've been getting better, remember?" The entirety of the gang had been working endlessly to slowly reacclimate Dust to a Papyrus of any kind. It had been slow going with fairly limited results, but Dust would no longer fall into a fit of panic whenever the name was spoken aloud. "I know." Horror rumbled, "Jus' makin' sure." _And I love you for it._ Dust mused softly to himself, sliding a finger beneath the sealed fold of the envelope to pop the paper container open.

As Horror had expected, it was a photo.

The quality was slightly grainy and a bit difficult to make out, but there was no doubt that it was Spooks in the picture. He was posed in a wave in front of what _looked_ to be his house, the windows cloudy and the strand of giftmas lights half missing from their perch upon the gutters. Some may have found Spooks' appearance to be grotesque and even frightening, but the endearing sight sparked a flicker of warmth within Dust's chest. "He wanted to say... hello." Horror spoke softly with a purr, "And that he thought you were..... very pretty." The back half of the statement drew a snort from Dust, but the smaller knew that his partner was being dead serious. "He also told me to tell you... that you.... should flip the photo over." There was a repressed noise of excitement present in Horror's syllables, and Dust took one last look at the sight of his lover's brother before turning the picture over and feeling his soul stutter to a halt beneath his hoodie.

_'Welcome to the family - Spooks'_

The writing was scribbled childishly and difficult to read, but the words were so genuine that Dust found his hands shaking from the weight they carried anyway. "I know it ain't.... a lot, but if it's too much I can just take it ba-" Dust cut him off with a shaky burst of denial, his hands trembling from where they gripped the edges of the note. "No. No, it's- it's- it's okay."

He meant it, too.

Gently slipping out from within Horror's careful hold, Dust slid to his feet while holding the picture with such care that it almost seemed comedically out of character. Grabbing a piece of tape from the roll sitting upon his desk, Dust stuck the picture to his wall beside the group photo of himself, Horror, and Killer that Cross had begrudgingly taken a couple months ago. Neither picture was perfect- _both were a tad fuzzy and out of focus, blurred around the edges and filled with hard to distinguish details_ -but Dust had never thought that he'd get the chance to be included in another 'family photo' ever again.

Returning back to the mattress where Horror promptly drew his smaller frame into large arms, his asymmetrical eyelights once again found the skewed photo of Spooks that hung crookedly on his wall. "Did he mean what he wrote?" The question slipped from his mouth before Dust could stop it, and there was a low rumble from Horror that spoke reassurance and bound amusement. "Spooks? Yeah, he meant it.... he couldn't stop talkin' about how wonderful it was to have, well..... you. With me." There was a gentle kiss pressed to the top of a hooded head, a small show of affection before Horror rested his broken skull atop Dust's own. "He likes ya' a lot. Real excited to have.... to have you join the family." 

Horror must have felt how Dust's chest constricted at the simple words, because there was a comforting purr and a clawed hand rubbing gently at the small of his back before Dust could even protest or push him away. "You... deserve it. Deserve to be... loved." Horror's voice was soft with truth and delicate with affection, and Dust took a shaky breath before wrapping his arms over Horror's. "You deserve a family."

Deep down Dust felt as if he didn't deserve any of those things _at all_ , but the mumbled words of Horror and the pictures on the wall spoke differently. They told the smaller that he was wanted, that somehow, _in some way_ , his existence was liked. Maybe even loved, if the gentle way Horror was holding him was any indication. "Okay." The word came out far wobblier than Dust would have liked, but Horror made no comment except to tighten his hold ever slightly. "I... love ya'." His crimson voice held a flicker of adoration, and the ghost of a smile made its home upon Dust's face without permission at the sound. "I love ya' too, H. More than anythin'." Surrounded by a quiet purr and loving arms, the pictures on the wall seemed just a little bit more realistic, a little more warm.

Dust decided that he'd never felt more at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda proud of this one.
> 
> spooks and horror are babey. convince me otherwise.


	4. just us against the world (day 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> horror is dust's whole world, and he's terrified of losing it. what better way to combat fear than turning fear into combat? (or, dust teaches horror hand-to-hand combat).
> 
> day 4 - 'fighting together' prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep in mind I have limited knowledge on offensive close-contact combat. I am by no means an expert.

Dust was constantly on the lookout for numerous methods to keep Horror safe. His larger partner had a limited reserve of magic and wasn't the most proficient at dodging due to his larger stature; it didn't leave Horror with a whole lot of options when it came down to combat or defense.

Dust wasn't saying that his partner was weak, no, not at all. Horror was certainly a force to be reckoned with, a towering skeleton that was lethal with an axe and highly skilled at keeping foes away with a well aimed block or deflection using his blade. He was more than capable of holding his own against a few opponents, but that didn't stop Dust from worrying incessantly regardless.

_He'd lost too many people to chance failure at keeping Horror alive._

The hooded skeleton had wracked his mind for _months_ on how to ensure the larger's safety. Horror didn't have a lot of excess magic to utilize- _which was fine, Dust was more than happy to use his own overflowing capacity to protect and love him with_ -which meant that conjuring magical attacks took a lot more out of the broken skeleton than Horror had to offer.

With magic off the table and stealth work not entirely plausible, Dust had settled on a more primitive method to expand Horror's list of battle skills.

"Yer gonna want to change the angle." Dust instructed, placing his hand on Horror's upper arm and moving the appendage to a better position. "The goal is to inflict injury upon your opponent, not yerself. Angle and force is everything- a simple error in the trajectory could leave you with a broken hand."

The two of them were alone in the castle's extensive training room. Dust had gathered several padded mats to lay out across the floor- _the more cushion the better, he reasoned_ -and arranged two of the many training dummies to face them side by side. There were various objects scattered along the entirety of the perimeter and more than a sufficient number of distractions that threatened his focus, but Dust had made sure to block all of them out save for Horror, the battered dummies, and the numerous bowls of colored chalk he'd haphazardly placed around them.

"Like... this?" Horror spoke slowly as he readjusted his angle, fist coming into line with the throat of the dummy. The impact let out a small puff of chalk- _yellow this time_ -at the contact, and Dust gave him an approving nod. "Hell yeah! Jus' like that, good job." Horror pulled away with cheeks flushed crimson from the small amount of praise, and Dust clapped one of his own chalk-covered hands on the larger's arm in reassurance. "A hit like that will fuck somebody up temporarily fer sure. Maybe even extensively dependin' on the circumstance."

Both mannequins were riddled with multi-colored spots of chalk. Each color was a physical remnant of a specific learned move and spoke volumes on the accuracy of each hit distributed; Dust's dummy showed deadly accuracy and ferocious intent, while Horror's spoke of a more sloppy pattern that was brutal and not yet well-defined.

It was entirely expected. It was, after all, only the third hand-to-hand combat lesson Horror had received.

Out of everyone in the gang, Dust and Cross were the most diverse members when it came down to fighting rough and dirty. Cross had arrived with extensive training from his position in his former royal guard, locked and loaded with knowledge in various combat methods from mixed martial arts to judo and everything in-between. Dust himself was highly proficient at street fighting and broader types of hand-to-hand combat. He'd taught himself how to win the fight when battle got up close and personal- _he liked to pretend that learning hadn't just been a last desperate attempt to beat his kid when he would inevitably run out of magic_ -and was well versed in complex magic maneuvers on top of it. Dust enjoyed dishing out well placed jabs and grueling punches when given the opportunity, and the smaller had been ecstatic when Horror had reluctantly agreed to participate in weekly lessons.

"It'll help in loads of ways." Dust had promised with a peck to the larger's forehead. "If ya' happen to get disarmed, 's good stuff to know. Plus it'll, uh, make me feel better." _Better safe than sorry_. If it wasn't the strategical benefits that had managed to convince Horror, it was the small whispered admittance that it would make his smaller lover feel just a bit safer. More secure.

_Less terrified._

The beginning handful of lessons had been a struggle. There had been a brief incident the very first week that resulted in Dust nursing a nasty bruise and Horror fleeing the training grounds faster than the smaller could blink. It had taken four more weeks for Dust to slowly coax Horror back into the program. Four weeks of nonstop convincing that, _no_ , Horror hadn't broken Dust. The largest had eventually come back around, but Dust had quickly thrown out any plans of utilizing fast legwork or any moves that required a certain finesse after that particular fiasco.

The hooded skeleton was tall yet lanky with the ability to move quickly and strike swiftly; Horror was on the opposite end of that spectrum. The cannibal was proportionally large in every way- he had a wide frame and more than enough height, towering over everyone and dwarfing even the most 'above average' skeletons. Hell, Dust was taller than than most Sanses and he _still_ looked like a ragdoll in comparison to his larger lover. _Not that Dust was complaining per say, there was something unspeakably enjoyable about being scooped up and held like he was something fragile. It made the smaller feel like he was, just maybe, worth actual care._

"Hit 'em with a forward horizontal elbow strike. Target area of your choice." 

The order was simple and direct, and Horror wasted no time in spinning on his heel and dealing a devastating blow to the mannequin's ribs. The material visibly flexed around the strength of the blow, a deep line of gilded gold imprinting on the dummy's front as Horror pivoted back with a surprising amount of grace.

Not bad at all.

Forward elbow strikes were a reliable attack when it came down to hand-to-hand battle. They involved a person using a portion of their ulna and elbow to target an attacker's skull, neck, ribs, and other visible weak spots. They could easily be paired with various chokeholds- _Horror was also spectacular at executing those; what he lacked in agility he more than made up for with brute strength_ -to incapacitate an enemy and deal some serious damage to bone structure.

"Holy _shit_ , jus' look at that." Dust ran gloved fingertips along the training dummy's torso, feeling the dent that Horror had left behind. "Fuck, you're built like a damn tank." He didn't even bother trying to hide the impressed awe dripping from the syllables. "Damn babe, yer gettin' real good at this shit. It ain't gonna be long before yer passin' me up, ay?"

Horror quietly mumbled that he didn't think that was going to happen anytime soon. "Nah, jus' you wait. Yer a natural at this stuff." Dust brushed his hands together and hummed, looking up at Horror to accentuate his firm belief. "You look pretty hot doin' it too, so that's an added bonus." If the small sprinkling of praise hadn't brought a tint to Horror's cheeks, the comment most certainly did. "Yeah, yeah..... whatever, Bunny."

Dust merely grinned and grabbed hold of Horror's shirt, yanking the taller down to press a kiss to his lover's mouth.

Each and every intimate moment served as a reminder that the two of them fit together like perfect pieces of a puzzle. Every small kiss was electrifying, every touch energizing and shared bout of laughter a tune like no other. It still took Horror's breath away each time the hooded skeleton kissed him. Made the larger feel like he'd never been loved before, before Dust had come into his life. It was stupid. It was romantic. It was disgustingly cheesy. But that was simply how Horror felt, and deep down he knew that Dust felt no different.

All too soon, the shared touch ended and the smaller drew away. "I think that's good enough for this session, H. Yer gettin' better already, 's for sure." Dust continued speaking, but Horror couldn't hear him over the lingering taste of mulberry that hid just behind his teeth. "-listenin' to me?" The smaller didn't wait for an answer. "'M takin' that as a solid 'no'." Horror shook his skull sheepishly, and Dust waved the unspoken apology away with a chalk-covered hand. "Don't apologize. I was jus' sayin-" the smaller stripped away his outer pair of weighted gloves, "-let's take a shower. A hot one. We can steal some of Killer's weird bubble soap and-" The look of blatant disbelief on Horror's face made Dust break into an unabashed grin. "Not _that_ kind of shower, H. Get yer mind out of the gutter. Unless, of course, you _do_ wanna have hot shower se-" A clawed hand gently resting over the smaller's running mouth was sign enough, even if Dust could see the flustered crimson rising on his lover's cheeks. "Okay, okay." Dust laughed, "'M done teasin'. Promise. Jus' a normal shower to get rid of the grime, no funny business." 

It was hard to understand him through the muffled barrier over his mouth. Dust got the message through anyway, and Horror released his gentle hold with a quiet sigh and muttered incredulity. "I know. I'm irresistible." The duo was already across the gym and halfway out the door, and as Dust flicked the fluorescent lights into dark he knew that things would work themselves out.

Dust knew Horror would make it.

Knew they'd _both_ make it.


	5. as we drift to sleep (day 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The movie's plot wasn't very entertaining, but nobody was paying much attention to the colors on-screen anyway.
> 
> day 5 - 'with/around others' prompt

"That's it!" Killer growled, slamming his handful of cards down on the old mahogany table, "Somebody pull the damn movie up. I can't sit here any longer and watch Criss-Cross Applause get another 'Uno'."

"Someone's a sore loser." Cross muttered in response, eyesockets half-lidded in withdrawn amusement. "I ain't no sore loser- you're just a damn cheater! There ain't no way in hell you can win that many rounds in a row without pullin' a fast one." Killer was standing, now, as Cross stared impassively at his riled lover. "I'm not cheating, Kills. I just know how to count, unlike you." Horror moved a hand to Killer's shoulder to gently keep the smallest from lunging over the table like a feral animal at the jab. Nightmare watched with an unreadable gaze from his position at the end of the table, but everyone could see the small smile he was fighting to hide at the chaotic nature that game night had, inevitably, descended into like always.

"The two of you jus' need to get a damn room already." Dust butted in, torso draped across the table and hand of cards face up for everyone to see. "Crossy and I don't need a room, Dusty. We can do it anywhere, anytime- how 'bout you and Horror go get a fucking room and-" Killer, as wild as he was, had the sense to shut his mouth under the warning glare Dust gave him. "The movie is.... probably a good idea." Horror mumbled, and Cross sighed at the statement and its truth. "I'll go set it up since Killer is bein' a baby." 

"Cross." Nightmare warned, Killer twitching against Horror's careful hold. "Fine, fine- I'm sorry, Killer." The former guard pushed his chair away from the table.

"Sorry that I'm better at Uno than you are, dickweed."

"Why you _little_ -" Horror gave up and released his grip on the smaller as Killer snarled, simply moving both clawed hands to his lap and watching the inky-eyed skeleton bicker with his boyfriend like they were toddlers on a playground. "They gotta weird relationship." Dust mumbled, "Dunno why they fight so damn much when 's obvious they're head over heels." Horror chanced a glance over his shoulder and to the right, finding that Dust was already looking up at him from where his skull rested upon hoodie-covered arms. "I think 's jus'..... how they show their love. They're both very..." The larger exhaled, stumbling over himself to try and find an accurate word that fit his needs. "...stubborn." 

Nightmare snorted at the descriptor. "Stubborn is a softened way of putting it, Horror." The king's extensive hand of cards had already been discarded to join the quickly growing pile of disorganized color in the center of the table, the guardian swiftly rising from his seat with a brief flicker of several darkened tentacles. "I shall pull the movie up while you get yourselves situated. Killer and Cross will have, _hopefully_ , settled down by then." Movie nights had not always been a common theme throughout the mansion. It had taken years for Nightmare to recognize that somewhere, _somehow_ , along the line his crew had ceased being a simple means to an end and had become something more that closely resembled a family.

It was shaky and imperfect, but the skeletons were _his_. The guardian had helped something flourish, something _grow_ , for the first time in centuries; he'd had the opportunity to watch his makeshift ménage fall in love and observe them patching each other's wounds. If something as simple as a 'movie night' could help bring his boys all together, then the king had nothing to say against them.

There was a small part of Nightmare that loved them, too.

"Up, up- let's grab the good seats while Kills and X duke it out." Dust had already stood to offer a hand to his larger lover, who paused for a moment before accepting the gentle gesture and rising to his feet himself. Horror wasted no time in lumbering over towards the couch and plopping himself down in the center of the cushions. "Move over, big guy." Dust murmured, settling his smaller frame into Horror's lap and drawing a blanket over the both of them. The chosen position made a singular crimson eyelight blink in confusion, but Horror didn't argue and simply drew Dust close with a barely audible purr.

Dust didn't like showing physical affection around others.

He'd described it to Horror once. The explanation hadn't been articulate nor easy to follow, but it had been important nonetheless. The reasoning had come reluctantly after Horror had asked Dust if he was being too clingy, too overbearing. Dust had told him that no, _of course not_ , he wasn't being too clingy. That Horror's constant want for physical affection was actually sort of nice, and that he would _know_ if Dust wasn't comfortable with anything he was doing. "'S jus'.... you never seem like you.... like it. Around.... around the others." 

Things changed a bit after that conversation.

Horror was a skeleton who looked for physical affection in any form he could get it. Head rubs, hugs, kisses, any kind of touch at all. It was a result of being stuck in a world where the only goal was getting food through any means necessary. There were still bite marks embedded deep within Horror's bone that lay as a permanent reminder to times where a monster had sunk their teeth into the cannibal to try and tear him apart. Plenty of marks- _each one was one too many for Dust_ -that showed just how desperate people truly got when there were no other options left. There hadn't been time for gentle shows of affection in Horror's AU, and now that the larger was in a safer environment it was all he could do to pry himself away from Dust and give the gang members space.

There wasn't anybody who made teasing comments on Horror's liking for physical contact, not anymore. There were just some things you didn't speak about in the mansion, if not for yourself then for the others around you. Gaster and Chara were two people that one did not speak of for the sake of Killer and Cross. The lack of food or remarks on touch were topics that everyone kept to themselves, and it hadn't been long before Dust added onto the list with a few 'unspeakables' of his own.

"Yer not bein' clingy, H. It ain't you." Dust had reassured him. "'S just'-" Horror waited patiently and gave his smaller partner all the time in the world. "My kid used to make fun of how much I loved Paps." The hooded skeleton admitted, wearing a grin that hadn't quite reached his eyes. "It made each loop just a little bit more unbearable." A few worn threads had drifted to the floor from nervous tugging on ragged sleeves. "I uh, don' like showin' that stuff in front of others, now. Gives em'- gives em' too much to tear apart, y'know? They already got their claws in deep, 'n I don't need to give em' somethin' else to pick through."

While Horror hadn't entirely understood- _he couldn't, not when he hadn't been through RESETs like Dust or Killer had_ -the larger had respected Dust's boundaries anyway. It took a few weeks at first to readjust himself to affection only behind closed doors, but Dust was still his and Horror was still Dust's. In the end that was all that mattered. 

"Are you two done?" Nightmare's voice was tinged with mirth as the television screen flickered to life. "Sorry Boss." The arguing in the background died down beneath the question, Cross meekly picking at the fur that always seemed to hide the lower half of his face. "Oh, we're done. Sure, yeah- still hate 'Crossy Road', though." The nickname was mockingly sweet, and the monochrome guard swatted Killer across the back of the skull. "Of course Boss, we're done. We'll be over in a second, I'm- _we're_ sorry for the delay." There was no lack of breathless words or quiet mumbling beneath bated breath as the duo made their way over to the sofa, but nobody missed the way Cross and Killer's hands seemed to find each other and lace their fingers closely knit.

"Wonderful. Now that the Uno issue has been settled-" the choice of words elicited a groan from Killer, "We can begin the movie. Who's choice is it today?" There were no takers, and Nightmare merely sighed. "Cross, pick a number." There was a moment of silence before the word _'twelve'_ popped into auditory range. Scrolling through the list of channels, Nightmare hunted down the guard's numbered choice and read the listing upon the flickering screen.

"I believe it's an action movie that is playing." The guardian hummed, "Any objections or other suggestions?" Killer signaled _'no'_ with a shake of his head. "Very well then. Don't complain if it turns out to be shit, you brought it upon yourselves."

The movie's plot wasn't very entertaining, but nobody was paying much attention to the colors on-screen anyway. Movie night was less about the movie and more about the collective time together. Though Nightmare and his gang functioned as one unit in almost every way, there weren't many moments where the whole lot of them were in each other's company for an extended time. They all had different interests and varying responsibilities, and sprawling out within the living room stacked atop one another was just one way they got to drink in one another and their endearing- _if not obnoxious_ \- traits.

"You comfy?" Dust spoke lowly and over his shoulder to Horror. "Mhmm." The larger purred, "Relax, Dust. 'M.... 'm okay." Horror's smaller lover had a difficult time taking a moment one step at a time. The hooded skeleton was wired to observe, observe, _observe,_ and sometimes it made it near impossible for Dust to simply _breathe_. "We're all fine." Killer had already fallen asleep in less than half-an-hour, Cross not minding one bit if the gentle motion of his hand along Killer's spine had anything to say about it. The guard himself looked close to nodding off too.

It had been a long day.

One by one the skeletons succumbed to barely restrained slumber. Horror had been pleasantly surprised when even Dust slipped into sleep- _finally_ , he thought, _it had been several nights since his smaller partner had slept last_ -and the cannibal ended up nodding off towards the last few minutes of the mundane movie. Nightmare remained awake to allow the credits to roll through, turning down the dull drone of cliché background music. 

Finally the foyer fell into quiet as the movie was clicked off. The shift from monochrome to a glowing dark was enough to stir Horror from the light sleep he'd fallen into, crimson glowing bright as one working eyelight slowly fluttered open. "...Du-" the quiet murmur was dead in the water, the larger looking around to find everyone save Nightmare still fast asleep. "Go ahead and take him up." Cyan spoke softly, "I'm staying with Cross and Killer tonight."

Drowsily untangling his claws from around Dust's smaller frame, Horror bundled up the nearest blanket and hefted his smaller lover into a bridal carry. The sleeping figure shifted in large arms, but Dust did not wake at the change in position. "Thank you.... Boss." Horror mumbled, turning on his heel and heading out across the tiled floor to climb the spiraling staircase. 

Dust was a different person while he slept. The hooded skeleton suffered from severe insomnia that often kept him up for days in a row, but on the rare occasion where he would rest Horror couldn't help but marvel. It was almost like looking into a window from the past. Of looking down and seeing Dust but _younger_ , less damaged and less cold. The sight was a rarity and the larger never took his ability to witness it for granted. "Almost there, Bunny." He spoke soft, turning down the second floor and nudging the heavy door of his quarters into open.

Dust didn't have to sleep with Horror, but the smaller did so often that it wasn't ' _Horror's room_ ' so much as it was ' _theirs_ '. The cannibal would never openly admit it, but his room no longer felt right when Dust wasn't in it. It always felt empty and lacking without the smaller's tinge of mauve, without his sarcastic comments or deliciously unpredictable attitude. "In.... we go." Horror nudged the door closed behind him with a _'click'_ , readjusting his grip on Dust to gently ease his sleeping partner down onto the bed. "Gimmie... one second." It took some effort and sloppy maneuvering on Horror's part, but the larger managed to slip beneath the covers without jostling the other around. 

"Sleep tight, love." Horror whispered, pulling Dust close to his chest and wrapping the smaller in arms that never failed to protect. "Mmm." The broken skeleton nuzzled against the back of Dust's neck at the sleepy hum, pressing a kiss to a covered skull before lulling the both of them to slumber with a slow and doting purr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally just soft. they deserve some softness, sometimes. fluff for the soul.
> 
> and yes, I hc cross as someone who loosens up over time. nightmare works hard to show him that his gang is not the royal guard, and that cross is allowed to act like his age sometimes. if that involves calling killer a 'dickweed', then so be it.


	6. I'll give you all my LOVE (day 6)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it was always colder in dust's head than it was in horror's arms.
> 
> day 6 - 'LOVE/love' prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING.  
> mental breakdown, self-injury, manipulation, implied/suicide baiting.
> 
> sometimes the line between love and LOVE, LV, seemed far too thin for dust's liking.

LOVE.

Level of Violence.

The acronym was sickeningly twisted. It took the name of something sacred and hid behind its namesake. Love was _supposed_ to be something delicate, something sweet and salty and beautifully imperfect. It was something worth protecting, the small little flutter in your chest that brought a smile to your face whenever that special someone was around.

Dust couldn't fathom how love ever got entangled with the idea of violence and death.

LOVE, _LV_ , was everything humanity was not. It was the bitter reward for completing unspeakable acts, the vile aftertaste that forever lingered in your mouth after you took the life of another. You may be able to rinse the blood and dust from your stained hands, but there was no getting rid of LV no matter how harshly you scrubbed. It stuck itself to you, and like a parasite to its host, it drained you dead and dry.

Sometimes Papyrus liked to try and convince Dust that they were one and the same. That love and LOVE were interchangeable, two halves of a bitter whole. _"You love him, right?"_ Phantom would whisper in the dark, _" Why not show him what LOVE really looks like? You know you want to. You know you have to, have to show him before he shows you."_Dust would simply cup his gloved hands over his skull and try to block out the static noise. He loved Horror. He loved him more than anything. He loved him with every ounce of his broken soul that he had left, and he would not hurt him. He would not subject his larger lover, his other half, to LOVE. 

On the worst days, Dust would repeat it like a mantra to remember.

The bursts of unsettled LV weren't always timed. There were episodes that clawed their way out of thin air to drown Dust within their murky hold. They most commonly came after an LV rush, when EXP and adrenaline ran rampant in his bones, but there were plenty of other times where Dust would crumple under whispers and the crushing weight of guilt for no apparent reason at all. Those times, _the unexpected and the unexplained_ , were the ones that sent Nightmare sprinting through the halls and Killer flinching against screams that echoed down the corridors. They were the ones that kept Horror wide awake, kept him right up against Dust's side as the hooded skeleton writhed and sobbed under the unfathomable panic of things only he could see.

They were the ones that haunted every member of Nightmare's mansion.

Episodes varied in severity and length depending on how unsettled Dust's LOVE was. The smaller skeleton had more LV than Cross and Horror combined, and even Killer didn't quite hold a candle to Dust. _Or maybe he did_. Killer's candle of LV was smaller though still significant, but his wick was much longer and wasn't burned so dangerously low. Dust's candle seemed to always teeter on the edge of self-extinction, a brilliant gathering of mauve magic that glowed too hot and glowed too bright.

On some nights the glow extinguished itself.

It would always be the silent evenings that brought with them the most damage. Silent nights like this one, where the air hung still and soft within the decorated walls of Horror's room. Dust always went to his lover's quarters when the voices starting speaking. They were always whispering, of course, ghostly outlines in the peripheral of his vision. Lingering remnants of Dust's sins. The figures always sang to him in the back of his skull even on the best of days, and sometimes, when it was quiet enough, Dust could almost hear them scream.

They were screaming now.

Dust didn't remember where he was. The voices were too loud and they were stopping him from remembering whenever the answer snaked almost close enough for him to reach out and grab. All he knew was that it was dark and he was cold. The walls surrounding him seemed familiar, like they _should_ have been familiar, but the voices were too busy dragging them in closer for Dust to pay attention.

They were so, _so_ , loud.

There was a symphony encircling Dust's skull. The voices were rising like a crescendo, screaming, crying, shouting, _begging_. Begging Dust to spare them. Yelling to make sure that Dust remembered how gruesome he really was, how awful and wasteful and _undeserving_. _"You killed us."_ One whispered, _"Why do you get to live? To thrive on our ashes and dust while we lay suffering?"_ The murmur was accompanied with the ghost of a hand trailing down Dust's cheek, slow and terrifying and destructive. It made the smaller violently jerk, made his body shiver feverishly.

The hooded skeleton's bones were alive with LOVE. Dust burned like he'd been sentenced to the stake, and he let out a choked inhale as his battered hands gripped his skull with enough force to leave small marks embedded in the fragile bone. "No. No, no, no, nonononono-" The word was sideways and crooked, "I didn't- I had to. I had to, I had to, _I had to_. Y-you would have just- it woulda jus' kept on going. It was the only way. The only-"

The voices didn't believe him, and Dust's hands dug a little deeper. 

He didn't understand why nobody else could hear the screams. Why hadn't anyone come? Why had nobody made them stop? Surely the others had heard them by now. Dust could hardly breathe over the overwhelming din, how could the others not hear them not quiet them not make them stop stop _stopstopstop_ \- 

"-ust. _**Dust!**_ "

A deeper voice ripped through him, and Dust almost thought that his prayer to a dying god had been answered. "Can you hear me?" The question cut in and out like the audio of a bad radio station. Who was talking? Why they were asking him if he could hear the- _"Pathetic."_ The smooth voice of a long-dead Toriel sounded like honey to Dust's mutilated senses, and he was temporarily aware of just how funny it was that the ghost of her voice sounded so much louder than the one who'd just yelled his name. _"You are not even capable of answering a simple question. Really, Sans-"_ the title was like a serrated knife to the soul, _"-you are much better off as dust."_

"I know." Dust choked out a response, broken and wild and horrifically raw. "I know. I know. I know, and- and I'm sorry. 'M sorry. Sorry. Sorr-" His voice broke, and a few fitting flakes of dust drifted down from the gouges his bruised fingers had made against his skull. He didn't have a chance to make the wounds any deeper before the darker voice was back, before something cold was wrapped around his wrists and pulling them away. 

"Dust. Dust, it's Nightmare. Answer me if you can hear my voice."

The words sounded like they were being uttered from underwater. "Night....mare?" Dust's voice fizzled out as his body jerked against the holds on his wrist, vision flashing white with panic hot and sharp. _Who was touching him, who was grabbing him, who was_ \- "-the. Dust, you need to breathe. It is just me, they're just my tentacles-" The hooded skeleton let out a choked sound, half a laugh and half a sob. How could he breathe when all he could see, all he could _hear_ , were the countless lives he'd taken by his own worthless, pathetic hand?

"-he's hurt himself. Go fetch Horror and tell him to bring the first aid kit-" the faint sound of another voice made Dust snap to attention, shivering against the gentle restraints still curled around his battered arms. "-that he's tucked away behind the bookcase in his room. It's a miracle we even found him, he's hardly visible from where I am- yes, I am working on pulling him out. Just focus on getting Horror here _now_ , Killer, before-"

_ "You should kill him."  _

The whisper blocked everything out. It was as if the world had ground to a halt and there was nothing and no one left except the deceptively familiar voice that laughed quietly against his skull. _"He's going to get backup, Sans. You have to make a move before 'Nightmare' does, before his reinforcements arrive and dust you on the spot."_ Phantom's words were a sickening coo. The ghostly red gloves trailing along Dust's shoulders were far more real than the brief flash of darkened holds along his wrists, and it was apparent even to Nightmare that the hidden shaking form of Dust had all but ceased listening to his twisted words. 

"Dust, I'm pulling you out from behind there. Do your best to focus on my voice." The warning went entirely unheard by Dust, and Nightmare was dully aware that trying to get through to the smaller in this state was a near impossible task. _"Kill him. Take his LV, take his power. Take him down before he takes your worthless, pathetic life."_ Dust's chest constricted, eyelights shaking so violently that he hardly noticed when the dark of his surroundings fell into a dim light, that he hardly noticed the darkened hands pulling him out from where he'd shoved his body twisted behind Horror's bookcase.

_"DO IT NOW!"_

Dust screwed his eyes shut so tightly that his vision flared an ugly rush of color. "No. No. No, no, no, no, no." Phantom was entirely too loud. Every whisper sounded like a howl, every ghostly touch burning like acid against his bone. _"Dust them all, Sans. You had no issue killing me, and what are fake-faced friends compared to a brother?"_ Dust jerked forcibly against Nightmare as his breathing finally broke, heaving breath choked as he ripped his arms free from the secure appendages that were holding them back. "Shit-" Dust ignored the curse from Nightmare as his bruised and bloodied hands once again found the sides of his skull, bone grinding against bone in a desperate attempt to make his head stop pounding. "Stop. Get out. I'm not- I'm not-" The sound was building to be more than he could bear, and Dust wasn't sure when he'd begun to rock back and forth under the guise of sins falling heavy.

"Get out. Get out, _please_ -"

He wanted Papyrus out of his head. He didn't want to kill anyone. He never meant to in the first place. "I'm sorry." The back half of the apology was watery, "Please don't. I'm sorry, I know, _I know_ -" The voices were swarming, a million screaming regrets that drew tears into tightly closed eyesockets and made Dust's fingers bleed from trying to dig the whispers out of his head.

_"Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic, pathetic, **pathetic.** "_

LOVE was crackling through his veins making it impossible to breathe. _"Can't even kill one person right. You disgust me, Sans."_ _Building and building and building._ Dust was disgusting. Worthless. A waste of space. _Phantom was right. Tori was right. Alphys and Undyne and Asgore and-_ "You're right." Dust mumbled, voice so see-through that he could have been made from glass. "You're always right." The broken admittance must have done something, because Dust could see Papyrus' grin even from behind closed eyesockets and dark. _"Of course I am, Sans."_ Phantom purred, syllables dripping with everything Dust feared. Everything he hated. _"I know you better than you know yourself. And what I see, brother, is so utterly disappoint-"_

"Dust."

A soft call broke through the haze of self-imposed torture. The whisper was quiet, this time, and Dust's breath shuddered violently within his ribcage. "I'm here." There was another hand on his face, but it wasn't frigid nor mockingly burning. "'M sorry.... I took so long to get to you." The new voice was different from the ones killing Dust slow. Different from the stabbing chatter of Phantom from behind. "Can you..... open your eyes for me, Bunny?" Dust spasmed under the request and the burden it carried. "Open." He returned the word, voice shaking almost as fiercely as his hands did upon his skull. "Yeah." The voice murmured gently in reply,

"Open."

Despite the torrent of hissing screams that told him not to listen, Dust's eyesockets flew open with pinpricked eyelights staring unseeing ahead of him. _Why did the voice tell him to open his eyes?_ _All Dust saw were the ghosts of things he so desperately wanted to forget. The ghosts of everything Dust had ruined. The remnants of-_ "Don'... don' look at them." The newcomer instructed, the hands on his face gently redirecting his skull.

"Look at me."

 _Look at who?_ The only thing he could see past the cloud of fallen tears were the voices, shimmering and glowing white with ashen death. "Bunny. Look at _me_." The voice repeated the order, though it wavered dangerously at the end. "'M right.... here. 'S jus'... me 'n you." Dust blinked once with shaking eyelights in frantic search of the owner, and the gentle hands pressed against his own mangled ones tightened unwillingly in fear. "I'm sorry." Dust's hands twitched against the sides of his hooded skull, more dust shifting to pool in his lap.

How dreadfully ironic.

"'M sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry." His voice wasn't really a 'voice' anymore. The syllables shook with every out of control breath, and it was more akin to a failing last line of defense than the breaking desperation it came out to be. "Don' say sorry." The hands on Dust's face brushed away the sticky remnants of acrid tears, "Deep.... deep breaths." 

Dust found his shaking hands gripping onto the larger ones that still cupped his skull, and his body seized beneath the low-buzzing hum of Phantom's spitting words. _"You're trusting him too easily."_ Papyrus murmured, _"This is why you let all of us get killed, Sans. Because you are so very, very, weak."_ The ghostly grin was all Dust could see, a crimson scarf burning itself into the back of unseeing eyesockets. "I- I didn't- I tried, I really-" The hooded skeleton choked on the words. He couldn't breathe over the unspeakable weight that had settled itself within his throat. "-I tried so hard, Paps. I didn't mean- I didn't mean to-" _Didn't mean to kill you_.

The first sob tore its way loud and broken from his chest.

The foreign hands on his face had moved at some point. Their warmth was no longer there, and the soothing voice had gone silent- or maybe Dust had simply stopped listening. _Weak and pathetic, weak and sorry, weak and dust dust dustdustdust, there was so much dust that he was choking on it, so much dust that was welling up from within his throat to suffocate him entirely_.

"-ust. Dust, Bunny, _please_ talk to me..." The hands were back albeit a little more frantic, and Dust was faintly aware that the cold hard tile beneath him had been replaced with something softer. It might have been the desperation that was mirrored in the other's voice or the fact that Dust was no longer hunched cold on the floor, but for whatever reason when Dust looked up once more he finally _saw_ the person who was speaking. Finally _saw_ something other than the tearing claws of his sins that were dismantling him from the inside out.

Horror was sitting across from him on the bed. His larger frame was kneeling close and hunched with clawed hands suffering from tremors against Dust's own. The smaller shivered as he recognized that Horror's eyesockets were wide and occupied by brewing crimson tears, and the relief that flashed across his face as Dust _looked_ at him nearly made the smaller gag with an overpowering sense of guilt. "H-Horror?" Dust's voice shook, and the name was spoken so uncertainly that it seemed as if the smaller was terrified that the other wasn't even real at all. "There you are...." Horror's chest shuddered with an exhausted emotion. "'S me, Dust. 'M right.... here." The larger spoke softly, slowly reaching out to gently pry Dust's stained hands away from his battered skull. 

A brief blur of movement caught Dust's attention, and the smaller's quivering body locked up like a deer caught in the headlights. Nightmare was standing tentatively in the corner of the room beside an out of place bookshelf. _"I told you, he has backup."_ Phantom murmured against the back of Dust's neck, and the smaller's vision dwindled beneath a regrowing panic. _What if Phantom was right? What if Dust really did need to kill them before it was too late? Before he himself was just another pile of discarded dust like he'd been a hundred times before?_

"Don' pay him any attention, Bunny. Jus'.... focus on me."

Horror's gentle voice broke through the haze of twisted thoughts. The smaller's eyelights snapped back to focus on the larger with a wavering intensity. _"End him. Gather his LV, Sans. Take what I'm offering you. Take the LV, take the **LOVE**."_ The torrent of voices were still too burning for Dust to see past. _They hurt_. "I-I don't want to, I don't- I don't want the LV-"

"Shh, shhh.... you don' have to take any of their LOVE, Bunny." Horror whispered, skull so close to Dust that the smaller could have reached out and shattered him whole. "'Cause... I'll give you all of mine. I'll give you all... all of my _love_ , okay?" The hushed sincerity made the voices taper out, and something inside Dust simply snapped at the soft-spoken words.

Like the floodgates had been ripped open and raw, the smaller fell against Horror with shaking sobs. Immediately there was the presence of safe arms around his body, arms holding his twitching frame safe and secure. Holding him gentle. _"I can't believe you. You make me sick."_ Dust's bloodied hands scrambled to find a hold on Horror's jacket. How could the larger stand him? How could Horror ever love somebody as fucking broken as he was? Dust was scum, a bottom feeder, a useless sack of shit that was better off as dust. _Better off dea_ \- "I've got you, Bunny." The arms around him tightened, and Dust realized that he must have been talking aloud. "I've got you."

The tears only fell faster.

"'S.... okay. 'S gonna be okay." Horror wasn't letting go no matter how much Dust resisted or squirmed, the larger skeleton keeping the _both_ of them steady and away from harm. "Let me go, let me go, let me _goletmegoletmego_ -" Dust's hands pulled uselessly against Horror's, vision blurred so severely from tears that it was hard to tell where his lover ended and he began. "You know I can't... can't do that." Horror was still speaking low and soft, like Dust would shatter if he grew any louder; honestly, who could say the opposite when it was so very clear that Dust was already dreadfully cracked? "I... love you too much to let you go." The smaller's soul hiccupped at the slight waver in the larger's voice, and Dust slumped against Horror with a pathetic whimper.

"Easy, easy. Breathe. 'S almost- 's almost over."

The voices were quieting, and some small part of Dust knew that Horror was speaking the truth. His head still hurt and his chest was aching something awful, but Horror merely held him tight and pressed a tender kiss to the top of his hooded skull. "Let it out." The larger murmured, and Dust's grip on his torso tightened. "'S okay." The two of them settled into a soft and slow rhythm, Horror rocking the smaller back and forth with all the care in the world he could possibly muster. "I'm-" Dust buried his skull into the crook of Horror's neck, the top of his watery eyesockets barely visible above the other's shoulders. "I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry." His voice was still shaking. "No need.... to apologize." Horror murmured, "No need." There was the sound of a choked inhale, and Dust tried again. "I-" the smaller jerked, 

"I l-love y-you." 

Dust's voice was choppy against the still speaking voices in his head, but Horror purred like it had been the most beautiful sound in the world. "I love ya' too." The larger shifted Dust's quickly tiring frame, "I love ya' more than anythin', Bunny."

There were still wounds littered on Dust's body that needed to be patched and mended, but that would be taken care of soon. Dust didn't have the energy to think about the way his hands were cracked and caked with flaky dust of powdered gray. Didn't have the energy to focus on anything else but the gentle purr of his partner that was driving Papyrus away. "Rest." Horror rumbled, a claw skirting up the length of Dust's spine. "I've got you." Dust spasmed lightly in Horror's lap, but the larger never ceased in his gentle rocking. "I-I-" The stuttered refusal was cut short. 

"'S okay, Bunny." 

Horror's broken skull nudged Dust's hooded one gently. "I'll be right here. 'M not.... goin' anywhere." The words held such a dedicated sense of love. A sense of love for him. For _Dust_. "But- b-but you-" There was a second wave of a gentle purr, and Horror stopped the broken sentence in its tracks. "I... told you I was gonna give you all my love." The gentle hand along the smaller's spine never ceased, "'N I.... meant it." There were a million things Dust wanted to say. A million things he wanted to scream, to yell. To show Horror that he wasn't worth _any_ of his love. "So.... sleep, Bunny. I'll keep you safe." _Safe. Loved. Secure_. All the unspoken little things that laid on Horror's tongue tumbled out into the open anyway, and the smaller was hit with such an overwhelming amount of security that it sent the rest of his fear, the rest of the _voices_ , into a quiet slumber for the first time in hours. "Sleep."

Dust did.


	7. you are worth all the thyme in the world (day 7/final)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they'd had some rocky years and frayed days, but in the end dust wouldn't trade it for the world.
> 
> just some silly family bonding time. oh, yes- and dirt. lots of dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> benadryl is my own character, so please don't use him,, thank you!

There were very few days in Nightmare's AU when the sun would manage to push past the clouds and shine.

The AU was frigid nine months out of the year, buried in two feet of snow that stretched out for as far as the eye could see in any direction but up. The cold didn't bother Nightmare too much, but if the negative guardian had known that he'd eventually be collecting damaged skeletons to keep with him in his castle he would have chosen a more favorable AU to settle down in and bury his roots.

Over time there had been modifications to the mansion to better suit life that had other requirements than just 'cold and snow'. There was a greenhouse planted just outside the back entrance, a gorgeous thing that radiated warmth and artificial sunlight. It was a little piece of heaven plopped right into an icy wasteland, and the enclosure had bloomed with foliage underneath Horror's careful care that had spanned many years and dozens upon dozens of dedicated months.

The greenhouse had originally been a means to help soothe Horror's ever-looming fear of running out of food. Years spent in a desolate wasteland had left more than its fair share of damage on the larger-bodied skeleton. No amount of gentle reassurance from Nightmare had ever calmed Horror nor convinced him that they would never fall into famine; the fear was manageable on most days until the cupboards started looking a little bare a few days before a supply run. Until Horror stopped eating to 'save food for the others', until the larger skeleton barricaded himself in his quarters in a panic so severe that not even Dust could calm him down.

So, to help combat the terror, Nightmare suggested a garden. "That way you can grow your own food. All of us could, so that even _if_ something were to happen, we would always have a food source." The relief had been visible in a crimson eyesocket near instantaneously, and the king had wasted no time in constructing a decently sized greenhouse. The summer months were far too short to have an actual outside garden, but Horror hadn't seemed to mind the artificial space. Liked it better than anything else, even. "Now we..... we don' have to worry 'bout winter at all. We can..... grow stuff all year round."

And grow things they did.

Horror was a gifted natural at tending to plants of all kind. He was gentle and patient with the budding sprouts and small developing seeds. The larger could kneel in the dirt for hours and not move an inch, just observing the little lines of green peeking up through the soil below.

The greenhouse was initially a group project, but it had quickly become painfully obvious that not everyone in the gang was capable of nurturing things to grow. That not everyone possessed a 'green thumb'. It wasn't entirely unexpected considering the majority of them cut short the lives of things or people to survive, so owning the capacity to help coax things into flourishing and thriving wasn't a skill that most wielded in their arsenal. 

A prime example was Killer, who had miraculously offed his plant in less than a month. The greenhouse utilized artificial light to help offset the gloomy weather that almost always hung in the air, but Killer had, _to everyone's dismay_ , left his tomato plant in the darkest corner of the space despite Horror's insistence that he didn't. "It'll be fine. If the plant can't live without the damn sun all the time then that's its problem and ain't mine." Sure enough, a mere three weeks later, the plant had withered beneath a lack of light.

Killer never bothered trying again.

Cross wasn't much better when it came to gardening. His small little sprout had lasted a bit longer than Killer's, but not by much; the former guard had a difficult time judging how much water to give the greenery and how often he should do it. He was a tad too overbearing on his tiny sprout, and he'd practically drowned his chosen pea plant in an ocean of water over the span of a few weeks. "Chara and I couldn't decide how often to water it." He'd mumbled, "So we just watered it all the time." Horror had told the smaller guard that yes, he could see that. Cross had been fairly upset when his plant didn't make it, and he politely declined from attempting again on his own. He still helped Horror and Dust maintain the greenery, but only so often and with the others' guidance.

Nightmare and Dust had arguably tried their hardest out of everyone. The guardian's attempts at keeping his plants alive were thoughtful and ideal, but had failed early on despite his best effort. "My aura makes things difficult to grow." The king had explained with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I am not capable of physically manhandling or lingering around herbage. I thank you for the time and effort you put in, but it is just not possible."

Horror still kept a small plant atop the kitchen windowsill labeled with Nightmare's name anyway, and the former cannibal took care of it in the guardian's place.

Out of everyone that had come and gone, Dust was the only other person who still regularly took care of the greenhouse. Working in the garden helped to block out all the whispers that constantly plagued him, and the hooded skeleton found his hands shaking less and less the more time he spent out in the garden alongside Horror. It hadn't been smooth sailing at the beginning- _and still wasn't, really_ -but unlike the others Dust hadn't given up. There had been failure after failure at the start, dead plant after dead plant, but the small skeleton had persevered.

It had taken months, but Dust had finally kept something alive.

The small sapling was petite compared to the others Horror cared for. It wasn't quite the right color green or had as many leaves as it should have contained on its fragile stem, but the plant was _Dust's_ and Dust's alone. Horror had been beyond proud when his partner had finally succeeded in growing something of his own, and Dust's flowerpot sat front and center on the greenhouse's main table for everyone to see when they first opened the glass-framed door.

Ever since that tipping point had been reached, Dust had steadily been increasing the amount of plants that were kept alive and the amount of vegetables he'd grow. The enclosed garden space had been transformed into a flourishing area of warmth and life underneath the combined care of Horror and Dust, a far cry from the cold and stiff shelter it had been at the beginning. The evolution of the space was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking.

As their family had grown, so too had the greenhouse.

Dust and Horror were no longer a family of two, but a family of three. There was a third rambunctious member now, a tiny toddler that barely stood knee-high in comparison to Dust. The little skeleton had eyelights that didn't quite match and an odd habit of running around with only one shoe, but to Horror and Dust he was absolutely perfect. He was _theirs_.

Benadryl- _or 'Bena' as Kills liked to call him_ -hadn't been planned. Hell, the kid was supposed to be impossible considering the state of both Horror and Dust's souls, but he had happened nonetheless and changed everything for the better. It had been a rocky beginning and one steep learning curve as everyone in the gang pitched in and learned how to take care of a child. Four years of bumps in the road and more than a little turbulence, but Benadryl was healthy and Horror and Dust were happy, and at the end of each day all the little troubles and obstacles were more than worth the effort.

Despite being so young, Benadryl had already fallen head-over-heels for the greenhouse garden just like his father had. The toddler had inherited Dust's sense of curiosity and Horror's staggering patience with plants, and whenever he was given the opportunity his small frame would stumble after his parents to spend the afternoon tending away to the lush foliage contained in the backyard. His contribution was more of a moral boost than any actual help, but gardening had turned into a family hobby despite the extra work it took Horror and Dust to work with the plants _and_ keep an eye on their littlest. 

"Oi, be careful with that." Dust spoke up from his kneeled position on the floor, reaching a hand out to gently ease the terracotta pot from Bena's hands. "Why don't ya' let H handle that for you, bud." Small hands grasped gently at the rim of the pot as Dust set it back on the ground, but the toddler merely mumbled and dragged his fingers through the growing pile of dirt that was present at his feet with short care. "Sprout. Sprouty!" Benadryl's large eyelights flickered up to look at Horror, who had discarded a miniature tray of plants upon the nearest table. "Yeah, Buddy. We're gonna..... plant some sprouts today, huh?" The largest hummed, settling back down on the floor beside his kid and lover. "Y'gotta be real... real careful, though. You don' wanna squish it." 

"I won't." Bena mumbled, "He's too small." 

The family was gathered in a semicircle on the greenhouse flooring. Benadryl sat in the middle between his two parents, sweater sleeves dragging through the miscellaneous piles of dirt that had toppled out of his angled terracotta pot. Each of them had one in preparation of transferring a small seedling from one the numerous trays to a larger hold, Dust grinning crookedly as their little one dug through the soil like a man looked for long-lost treasure. "Easy there Bena; don' wanna waste all the dirt before yer pop even gets the saplings down." 

"That ain't nothin' to worry about." Horror replied, "We got more dirt than.... than we know what to do with." He wasn't exaggerating. The back storage of the greenhouse was half-stocked floor to ceiling with heavy bags of dirt, the varying kinds of soil crowding the other items that resided deep within in the closeted space. "Knock yerself out, kiddo." Happy with the light response, Benadryl wasted no time in shoving his hands deep into the depths of his tiny toddler-sized pot and flinging a bit of darkened soil into the air at the excitable action. "Better open up a new bag." Dust murmured, leaning forwards to press a gentle kiss to the larger's cheek. "I know," Horror purred, "Got one.... right here." He pushed himself back a few feet to turn his spine to Dust, scarred hands reaching for a pair of garden shears to open up the extra bag of sod. 

_"More dirt than we know what to do with."_

Burying a smile behind the shadow of a crimson scarf as Horror worked to cut open the bag of fertilizer, Dust scooped up a handful of mousy earth from within his pot and lightly threw it at his larger partner. He quickly buried his gloved hands once again in the confines of his earthenware container before the turf made contact, raising a finger to silently shush his kid who sat watching his hooded frame. Horror whirled around at the contact, but both Dust and Benadryl were hands deep in their pots working the soil. "Huh." Horror mumbled, and his crimson eyelights narrowed in suspicion. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Horror merely shrugged it off and muttered under his breath, turning back to the heavy bag of fertilizer and resumed cutting it open with his pair of worn garden shears. "'M almost-" 

_'Thwack.'_

Another handful of something soft hit the back of his neck, and this time Horror spun to look behind him faster than Dust could hide his teasing smile. "Dust." Horror raised a hand to swipe along his covered neck, fingers coming in contact with something that was oddly malleable. "Yeah, H?" The hooded skeleton's mouth wavered, an obvious failed attempt at covering a smile. "...what did you-" Horror didn't even have a chance to finish speaking and close his mouth before Benadryl hurled a handful of dirt straight at his face, the earthy substance hitting home and dousing the largest in a shower of mousy mud straight from the toddler's pot.

Dust choked on a surprised warble before bursting straight into a heaving bout of laughter.

"Oh _shit_ -" Dust slammed a dirt-covered glove over his mouth in an attempt to muffle his voice, but the damage was already done. "Pfff, you- you okay there, babe?" Horror stared impassive at the smaller, eyes blinking once to clear some of the soil from within them. "Yer lookin' a little _down to earth._ " The pun set off a burst of shrieking laughter from the smallest, Bena's tiny frame trembling with laughter as Horror shook his skull to knock away some of the loam.

"Oh, 's _on_ , you two." 

It was Horror's only warning before he gently tossed his own handful of dirt onto Dust, who spluttered at the feeling of soil falling deep into his hood. "Now you've done it-" Dust scrambled to grab his pot within both hands, "-this is _war_."

Not even a soulbeat after, the dirt went flying.

It was every man for himself as playful roughhousing ensued. Dust was bolting across the greenhouse with Horror hot on his heels, gentle handfuls of topsoil launched at one another over the soft din of laughter and sound of sneakers squeaking against gravel. The three of them hid behind plants and planned 'sneak attacks', Benadryl riding atop Dust's shoulders to 'catch' Horror and douse him with hazel ground before being coated in return. It was a childish game of hide-and-seek, a ridiculous dirt battle where the only winner was the positive glow that filled the enclosed garden, laughter and light and _love_ echoing off the glass walls and bouncing against beating souls.

In the end, the three of them were breathless.

The greenhouse floor was littered with scattered dirt and piles of displaced fertilizer, but the mess was worth it. All three parties were covered head to toe in mounds and small pools of dirt, Benadryl giggling from where he was hiding behind a heightened fern plant. Dust knew that the three of them would have to take two showers at _least_ respectively- _never mind the amount of work it would take to tidy themselves up before they could even enter the mansion to begin with_ -but the grin on Horror's face was worth all the disarray and time it would take to set things straight again. "I.... I give up." Horror raised his hands in defeat. "The almighty Bena was too... powerful fer me to handle." The giddy form of Benadryl came barreling out from where he had been 'hiding', the tot's small frame crashing into Horror's larger one in the shape of a hug. "Come 'ere." Horror laughed, dipping down to scoop his son into a gentle cradle against his chest,

"Let's go give yer dad a hug too, hmm?"

As Dust was drawn into a sloppy embrace alongside the two people he loved most in the world, he knew that things were messy and imperfect but were wonderful nonetheless. They'd had some tough years. Had more than their share of tough days, and sometimes the days were _still_ tough. Still difficult. But through all the trials and tribulations, they'd made it together. They would continue to make it.

And to Dust, nothing sounded better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's a wrap for horrordust week, I had so much fun with these babes aaAA <3
> 
> couldn't help but throw my shipkid in,,, horror and dust deserve happiness and a future


End file.
